


Breathe

by JustAnotherWriter (N1ghtshade)



Series: Advent Calendar Gift Fics [18]
Category: MacGyver (TV 2016)
Genre: Angst, Flashbacks, Gen, Whump, mentions of 107, tag to 304
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-19
Updated: 2018-12-19
Packaged: 2019-09-22 13:46:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,005
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17060918
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/N1ghtshade/pseuds/JustAnotherWriter
Summary: Mac can’t breathe. If he breathes, he’ll die.Trapped inside the pressurized nitrogen-filled room, Mac is fighting not only his body but his mind, as demons from the past reappear...





	Breathe

Mac can’t breathe. If he breathes, he’ll die. 

That’s counterintuitive. Every muscle in his body is screaming for oxygen. But there’s next to none in this air. If he takes a breath of this, he’ll never make it to the door. His body will start shutting down immediately and he’ll pass out, breathing in more and more of the poison until it kills him. 

A few years ago, he wouldn’t have felt the risk so keenly. But he knows all too well how fast nitrogen poisoning acts, and how brutal the effects are. He nearly got pneumonia after just the few rounds of it in El Noche’s compound. 

He can’t think about that. He can’t. He has to get to the door.

This suit feels like a thousand pound weight. He wants it off, but if he takes it off he’ll die. He glances down, trying to see how far he’s getting with each footstep. And he catches a glimpse of the orange under the heavy white chunks of the protective shell. The coverall he put on before the suit. It’s not the same shade of orange as his prison jumpsuit, but it’s close enough.

All the memories flood back. The car trunk, the chair, wrists duct taped to the arms, which felt like a betrayal because duct tape is supposed to be  _ his _ ...El Noche grinning down on him, the mask, the nitrogen…Jack, where is Jack, this is the part where Jack comes busting in and saves him. But Jack isn’t coming. 

He can’t think, he’s going to have a panic attack.  _ Breathe in, breathe out...I can’t.  _  He can’t breathe.  The only way he knows to stave off a panic attack, and he can’t do it. 

_ How ironic will it be _ , he thinks,  _ if El Noche is the one to kill me after all? _ The man put a bounty on his head, but maybe the lingering memories he left in Mac’s head are more deadly than any hitman. 

He has to get into the airlock. They can’t get him out of this room, but if he can get in the airlock and release the pressure, someone without a suit can come for him. 

He stumbles. The room blurs, and the sterile white and blue and grey becomes a dusty tan and cream. He hears voices, laughter. Sees orange on his body, his legs. He’s trapped, he can’t move his arms.

He’s tied up...no, it’s too heavy.

He’s surrounded...no, he’s all alone.

Jack is coming, he has to hold on until Jack comes...Jack is in Washington, thousands of miles away. 

He can’t breathe...he can’t breathe...he can’t breathe. 

Mac staggers a few more steps.  _ Get out. Get out. _ The oxygen deprivation is starting to kick in. He can’t hold his breath too much longer. He needs air. He needs air now. He can’t move, he can’t think, he can’t breathe…

His muscles are burning, screaming, from the weight and the lack of oxygen. He can’t move. He stumbles, the shackles on his legs...no, it’s just the suit...tripping him. He’s not sure how he ended up on the ground, but he struggles weakly to get up.  _ I can’t breathe. _

He used to laugh when Grandpa told stories about how knights in armor, in the early days, would fall off their horses and not be able to get up. How they’d lay on the ground like flipped-over turtles, defenseless, struggling to get to their feet because of the weight of the armor and the clumsiness of how the pieces were made. 

Grandpa told that story to explain how people learned to make better armor, armor with more joints, lighter pieces. How people adapt and improvise and overcome. But right now it’s the stuff of nightmares. Mac’s suit is like that early armor. Too bulky, too heavy. It’s pulling him down. He can’t get to the door. He needs air. 

He makes a faint gasp and instantly there’s the weight of nitrogen in his lungs. Now he’s being pulled down from the inside and the outside.  _ I have to get out. I have to. _

The thought pushes him to his knees. He’s almost to the wall, to the door. He shuffles over and clumsily bats at the door handle with one hand, like a dog trying to imitate a human opening a door. It releases and he falls into the airlock. But it’s still pressurized, Riley can’t open it. He has to release the pressure...But he can’t get up.

He drags himself to the wall, stares up at the lever he has to pull. Not even a button to hit.  _ What an awful design. _ He’ll complain about it to someone...if he remembers, his brain is all fuzzy and his thoughts are getting tangled up. That lever is important, for some reason…

Oh yes. If he doesn’t pull it, he’ll die.

He sees El Noche, laughing. “I will show you how long I can make a minute last.”  _ Has it only been one minute? _ He doesn’t know anymore. He wants Jack to come rushing in, to save him.  _ Last time, he came for me.  _ But Jack isn’t here now, and Mac will have to save himself. 

_ Jack would want me to live. ‘Come on, you gonna let a little nitrogen keep you down?’ _ He smiles just a little at the Texas-accented voice in his head. Then staggers to his feet. And pulls the lever. 

The door opens. Something drags him out into the hallway. He glances up blearily to see Riley, and then his eyes slip shut. 

He wakes up in another hospital two days later, aching all over and fighting mild pneumonia. His lungs ache every time he coughs. His head is clearer, and he knows now that another few seconds inside that room would have killed him. He cheated death one more time, so close this time...

But now Jack is here. Holding his hand, telling him he did good. _Jack is here now, it’s all okay..._


End file.
